Doom Castle

  CHAPTER XXXVIII -- A WARNING

  Petullo was from home. It was in such circumstances she found thebondage least intolerable. Now she was to find his absence more than apleasant respite; it gave her an opportunity of warning Doom. She hadscarce made up her mind how he should be informed of the jeopardies thatmenaced his guest, whose skaithless departure with Olivia was even, fromher point of view, a thing wholly desirable, when the Baron appearedhimself. It was not on the happiest of errands he came down on the firstday of favouring weather; it was to surrender the last remnant of hisright to the home of his ancestors. With the flourish of a quill hebrought three centuries of notable history to a close.

  "Here's a lesson in humility, Mr. Campbell," said he to Petullo's clerk."We builded with the sword, and fell upon the sheep-skin. Who wouldthink that so foolish a bird as the grey goose would have Doom and itsgenerations in its wing?"

  He had about his shoulders a plaid that had once been of his tartan,but had undergone the degradation of the dye-pot for a foolish andtyrannical law; he threw it round him with a dignity that was halfdefiance, and cast his last glance round the scene of his sorriestexperiences--the dusty writing-desks, the confusion of old letters; thetaped and dog-eared, fouled, and forgotten records of pithy causes;and, finally, at the rampart of deed-chests, one of which had the name"Drimdarroch" blazoned on it for remembrance if he had been in danger offorgetting.

  "And is it yourself, Baron?" cried a woman's voice as he turned to go."I am so sorry my husband is from home."

  He turned again with his hat off for the lady who had an influence onhis fate that he could never guess of.

  "It is what is left of me, ma'am," said he. "And it is more than is liketo be seen of me in these parts for many a day to come," but with nocomplaint in his expression.

  "Ah," said she, "I know; I know! and I am so sorry. You cannot leaveto-day of any day without a glass of wine for _deoch-an-doruis_."

  "I thank you, ma'am," said Doom, "but my boat is at the quay, and Mungowaits for me."

  "But, indeed, you must come in, Baron," she insisted. "There issomething of the greatest importance I have to say to you, and it neednot detain you ten minutes."

  He followed her upstairs to her parlour. It was still early in the dayand there was something of the slattern in her dragging gown. As hewalked behind her, the remembrance would intrude of that betrayingletter, and he had the notion that perhaps she somehow knew he sharedher shameful secret. Nor was the idea dispelled when she stoppedand faced him in the privacy of her room with her eyes swollen and atrembling under-lip.

  "And it has come to this of it, Baron?" said she.

  "It has come to this," said Doom simply.

  "I cannot tell you how vexed I am. But you know my husband--"

  "I have the honour, ma'am," said he, bowing with an old-fashionedinclination.

  "--You know my husband, a hard man, Baron, though I perhaps should bethe last to say it, and I have no say in his business affairs."

  "Which is doubtless proper enough," said Doom, and thought of an ironybreeding forbade him to give utterance to.

  "But I must tell you I think it is a scandal you should have to go fromthe place of your inheritance; and your sweet girl too! I hope and trustshe is in good health and spirits?"

  "My good girl is very well," said he, "and with some reason forcheerfulness in spite of our misfortunes. As for them, ma'am, I am oldenough to have seen and known a sufficiency of ups and downs, of fluxand change, to wonder at none of them. I am not going to say that whathas come to me is the most joco of happenings for a person like myselfthat has more than ordinary of the sentimentalist in me, and is bound tobe wrapped up in the country-side hereabouts. But the tail may go withthe hide, as the saying runs. Doom, that's no more than a heart-breakof memories and an' empty shell, may very well join Duntorvil andDrimdarroch and the Islands of Lochow, that have dribbled through thecourts of what they call the law and left me scarcely enough to burymyself in another country than my own."

  Mrs. Petullo was not, in truth, wholly unmoved, but it was the actressin her wrung her hands.

  "I hear you are going abroad," she cried. "That must be the hardestthing of all."

  "I am not complaining, ma'am," said Doom.

  "No, no; but oh! it is so sad, Baron--and your dear girl too, so sweetand nice--"

  The Baron grew impatient; the "something of importance" was rather longof finding an expression, and he took the liberty of interrupting.

  "Quite so, ma'am," said he, "but there was something in particular youhad to tell me. Mungo, as I mentioned, is waiting me at the quay, andtime presses, for we have much to do before we leave next week."

  A look of relief came to Mrs. Petullo's face.

  "Next week!" she cried. "Oh, then, that goes far to set my mind atease." Some colour came to her cheeks; she trifled with a handkerchief."What I wished to say, Baron, was that your daughter and--and--and theFrench gentleman, with whom we are glad to hear she is like to make amatch of it, could not be away from this part of the country a daytoo soon. I overheard a curious thing the other day, it is only fair Ishould tell you, for it concerns your friend the French gentleman, andit was that Simon MacTaggart knew the Frenchman was back in your houseand threatened trouble. There may be nothing in it, but I would not putit past the same person, who is capable of any wickedness."

  "It is not the general belief, ma'am," said the Baron, "but I'll takeyour word for it, and, indeed, I have long had my own suspicions. Still,I think the same gentleman has had his wings so recently clipped that weneed not be much put about at his threats."

  "I have it on the best authority that he broods mischief," said she.

  "The best authority," repeated Doom, with never a doubt as to what thatwas. "Well, it may be, but I have no fear of him. Once, I'll confess, hetroubled me, but the man is now no more than a rotten kail-stock so faras my household is concerned. I thank God Olivia is happy!"

  "And so do I, I'm sure, with all my heart," chimed in the lady."And that is all the more reason why the Count--you see we know hisstation--should be speedily out of the way of molestation, either fromthe law or Simon MacTaggart."

  Doom made to bring the interview to a conclusion. "As to the Count,"said he, "you can take my word for it, he is very well able to lookafter himself, as Drimdarroch, or MacTaggart, or whatever is theChamberlain's whim to call himself, knows very well by now. Drimdarroch,indeed! I could be kicking him myself for his fouling of an honest oldname."

  "Kicking!" said she; "I wonder at your leniency. I cannot but think youare far from knowing the worst of Simon MacTaggart."

  "The worst!" said Doom. "That's between himself and Hell, but I know asmuch as most, and it's enough to make me sure the man's as boss as anempty barrel. He was once a sort of friend of mine, till twenty yearsago my wife grew to hate the very mention of his name. Since then I'veseen enough of him at a distance to read the plausible rogue in hisvery step. The man wears every bawbee virtue he has like a brooch inhis bonnet; and now when I think of it, I would not dirty my boots withhim."

  Mrs. Petullo's lips parted. She hovered a second or two on a disclosurethat explained the wife's antipathy of twenty years ago, but itinvolved confession of too intimate a footing on her own part with theChamberlain, and she said no more.